


Spilled Milk

by wh0r3crux



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:35:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29143821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wh0r3crux/pseuds/wh0r3crux
Summary: “ She was only supposed to be gone five minutes. Five minutes turned into ten. Ten minutes turned into twenty. Before he knew it, she had been gone an hour and he knew something was wrong. ”
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 28
Kudos: 143





	Spilled Milk

It’s cold. It’s cold and it’s damp, and he can feel a twig stabbing into his knee cap as he kneels on the grass. It’s like all of the color has been cleared from the world. He no longer sees the blue of the sky or red of the roses he clutches in his hands. All he sees is the grey of the tombstone in front of him.

It’s been a month since she left; a month since the colors of the world faded away. Were there ever colors to begin with? It’s hard to remember. The amber shade of her eyes seems so far away, like a distant memory that’s been plucked from his mind and buried with her beneath the ground. The more he tries to remember the color of her hair, the more the memory slips from his grasp. It’s like he’s put her smile in a box and shoved it into a far away corner of his wardrobe. 

The grass beneath him is covered in dew from the winter morning, and the dampness soaks into his trousers. The wind slaps him in the face, and the sting of it is reminiscent of the time her hand connected with his cheek when they were children. Back before he ever noticed the fire that lit up her eyes when she was passionate about something. Before that fiery passion was ever directed towards him.

He remembers the first time her lips touched his, and he bites down on his lower lip so hard it draws blood. His eyes sting with the tears that hold their memories. Memories of their first date, the first time she held his hand. Memories of the smile she gave him when he complimented her dress. God, she looked beautiful. He just stared at her for what felt like hours, because he wanted to commit the sight to memory. She laughed nervously under his gaze, and he flicked his eyes up to hers; locked on the pools of amber. “You look beautiful,” he told her. She laughed again and told him he looked beautiful too. The blush that bloomed across her cheeks was the most perfect shade of pink he had ever seen. Now her cheeks are pale, lifeless.

He can’t breathe. The air is too thick, and he feels as if he’s choking on every breath he takes. She was only meant to be going to the store. They were out of milk, and she knew how he preferred milk in his tea, so she left to get some. She was only supposed to be gone five minutes. Five minutes turned into ten. Ten minutes turned into twenty. Before he knew it, she had been gone an hour and he knew something was wrong. He paced and panicked in the living room of their flat. Something was _wrong._ The aurors came thirty minutes later. Two men had been having an argument outside The Leaky Cauldron, it turned into a duel and a stray hex hit her in the back as she passed by them. The aurors had never seen a hex drop a woman to the ground that fast. It stopped her lungs, and she turned blue almost immediately. She was still clutching the bag containing a bottle of milk when she fell. 

Draco doesn’t take milk in his tea anymore.

It’s raining now. The water soaks into this clothing and it reminds him of the time they kissed in the rain. They had just had dinner with his parents, and it was suffice to say that it didn’t go well. Words had been said, glares had been given, and before he knew it they were walking through the manor gates. He apologized and promised she would never have to see his father again. They apparated back to London, and stood on the street outside their flat. He apologized so many times that she kissed him just to shut him up. It was raining and they were shivering in the cold, but the heat of her body pressed against his filled him with a type of warmth that he clung onto for years to come.

_Hermione Jean Granger_

_19 September 1979 - 21 November 2008_

_Loving daughter, friend, and wife._

He sets down the flowers and the rain covers the petals in water. He removes a book from his cloak, running his hands across the cover. It was a first edition copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ that he had gifted her for their third anniversary. He can’t bear to see it on their—his—coffee table any longer. 

He stays at the cemetery for what feels like hours. The sun sets and he can’t see the colors of the sky. It feels wrong to acknowledge any beauty that doesn’t belong to her. 

Her funeral held hundreds in attendance. Whether it was friends or loved ones or people who admired her, it felt as if all of wizarding England was there; mourning the loss of their golden girl. She was never golden to him. To him, she was every fucking color that could ever exist. Pinks and purples and red and yellows, and fucking _periwinkle._

She was so much more than the wizarding world’s _Brightest Witch of Her Age._ She was a lover, a fighter, a secret painter. She was everything he didn’t know he ever needed. She clawed her way into his heart without him ever realizing it. It was as if one day she was just a former schoolmate, and the next she was the only thing keeping him alive. It was like she personally filled his lungs with air and kept his heart beating. It’s no wonder his chest feels like it’s collapsing in on itself. She’s no longer there to keep him intact.

The rain finally stopped, but the chill in the air and the darkness of night still surrounds him. It swallows him whole. It’s like he was living in this perfect bubble of light and warmth for years, and it finally popped.

He stands up, brushing the dirt from his pants, and wipes his face. His hands leave his cheeks, wet with tears. 

“I love you Hermione Granger. I’ll love you until I’m right there next to you, and it’s just the two of us again.”


End file.
